


unresolved romantic tension

by ignitesthestars



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, Politics, Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignitesthestars/pseuds/ignitesthestars
Summary: “You haveotkazat’syaadvisors for this foolishness.”“I find your opinion more entertaining.” And he’s a masochist.“If you want to be entertained, find a jester.” Zoya sniffs, lifting her hair off the back of her neck. It is summer, to be fair, but Nikolai can’t help but think she’s doing it specifically to antagonise him. He’s never met another person capable of being so dismissive with so little effort. “I don’t understand why you’re so concerned with getting this done so quickly. The Healer said that your fertility hadn’t been impacted.”





	unresolved romantic tension

“You have _otkazat’sya_ advisors for this foolishness.”

“I find your opinion more entertaining.” And he’s a masochist.

“If you want to be entertained, find a jester.” Zoya sniffs, lifting her hair off the back of her neck. It _is_ summer, to be fair, but Nikolai can’t help but think she’s doing it specifically to antagonise him. He’s never met another person capable of being so dismissive with so little effort. “I don’t understand why you’re so concerned with getting this done so quickly. The Healer said that your fertility hadn’t been impacted.”

“When I heard that the Fjerdans had started referring to you as a nightmare, this wasn’t quite what I’d envisioned.” 

“When I accepted my role in leading the Second Army, this wasn’t quite what _I’d_ envisioned.” Vibrant blue eyes cut to him, and Nikolai has spent half a lifetime flitting around the world, but right now he feels pinned in place. “If choosing a wife - or failing to choose one - causes a war, then I will be there. If it impacts Grisha policy, then I will be there. If it results, improbably, in the rise of a new Darkling and complete chaos, I will be there. I am _not_ here to help you decide which disposable arm candy you want to buy in the name of international politics.”

Nikolai blinks. Zoya doesn’t, and it’s that more than anything that makes his chest warm, because it means she’s serious.

“I didn’t know you cared,” he says, low and teasing.

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Then that’s your problem, isn’t it?” 

Nikolai is very rarely surprised. That’s not bragging - part of the reason he’s alive today is because of his skill at plotting out not only what he’s going to do, but doing the same for everyone whose life and goals intersect his.

Leave it to Zoya to manage it anyway. 

“I didn’t think that the Nightmare of Fjerda let herself care about anything other than Ravka.”

“Fantasies only need people to care about them to exist, Nikolai. You should know that.” She bares her teeth in something like a smirk. She’s beautiful. “ _I’m_ not a fantasy.”

They make a strange pair, these two leaders with names both greater and smaller than their true selves. And she’s right, of course - the amount of men and women who would fall over for Zoya Nazyalensky is potentially endless, but none of them really know her. The woman who trains with her recruits day after day after day to make sure they’re as strong as they can be, the woman who is a nightmare because she’s not afraid to go into enemy territory to rescue her people. The woman who pushes herself well into the the dark hours of morning to make sure the Second Army holds together. To make sure that she can forge it into something greater than it had been before.

Nikolai thinks he’s doomed to be surrounded by women that are better than him. It’s not the worst fate a bastard king could face.

“So what you’re saying,” he says, slowly, because he’s not _that_ eager to be murdered, “is that you won’t help me choose a wife because you’re jealous?”

A paperweight picks itself up from her desk and throws itself at him; he swears, ducking, as Zoya inspects her nails.

“Huh,” she says. “How did that happen?”

Marriage, he decides, can probably wait for another year.


End file.
